Plath Stare from rows of licorice and shivering light spilt of sparkling sugar Crooning sills lit, sheets crinkle fold and double in pain killing nose engorged with cookie sheets but the angels slept soundly last night.
Waste I'm sure there are times, when you give pause, still yourself and for a moment simply stare into the incessant void before you without a single thought. And during that petit moment, somewhere on the otherside a couple embraces; a youth dies of preventable death; someone is lied to and doesn't know what pain they will eventually face. And you... you passed the moment blissfully without a care in the world. Thus it was not a waste of your time. I'm pretty sure that, it's quite impossible to waste your #life away. Only when you look back at your #life would you feel that you should have done more. Stop it. I wish I had wasted more time, daydreaming. In my dreams the sky is always clear, sunny but not hot. There would be a slight breeze that grazes the skin in comfortable coolness, and when I close my eyes... a cushin of air would embrace me, lulling me to sleep. There would be endless fields of grass rolling hill to hill, and trees with leaves that rustle softly to the wind. Nature's wind chimes. It would be exactly like when I was young... and I could stroll barefoot wherever I went. Catch tadpoles in a little pond, fall recklessly into a pool of catfish... feel them graze my feet as I swam. I feel the luckiest when I'm dreaming. Like I'm the luckiest person in the world. It feels lucky to be alive.
Forever Plus a Day Have you ever felt... the breath of expiring slumber? When the sun forays into consciousness so raw, that you remain caroused in blissful illusion? The ceiling becomes pure skin, porcelain white and distorted with perfection. Vision smattered with fog and rain blur as if looking through a stormy window, and lights commence a frenzied dance with the tremor of your gaze. Clutched in your hands, sheets dripping with pits and falls of morning light becomes your willing ward. And you wish you can remain there forever, drifting in and out of oblivion. There, you're just a beating heart, a receptical of feeling. Just simply... living. And it feels so good for that brief interlude. Then... an intake of breath, and you breathe in the syllables of your expectations, the wired fences of your variance. Once again you find yourself behind plexiglass and hard, reproachful stares. Your vision becomes painfully clear and... the magic recedes. Not just from the moment but from memory, fleeing like a hellmoth that returns naught but for the insensate void. You can't control the features that change in your mirror everyday. You can't control the way love abuses her power to sway. You can't control everything. But you can... sit by the sill to trance liquid snakes off your window. Watch as moths flutter from their stopgap canopy by porchlight, and consume the night. Be glad you humored your suspicion... of the coming morn.
The Gamble Were you jonesing? For spins and wins just leave your cordial greens on the table Sip Margaritas and strip poker wins and poker losses til you've got Jack lining up tricks n' full suits. Aces with hearts shot red fold and throw dirty looks with dicey eyes Leaving you bare with just a spin shy of Luck.
